Why don't you do it right?
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: Karen's loneliness and wonders the night following Stanley's arrest. Based on Peggy Lee's song.


She closed the door and leaned against it heavily; in silence. The night had finally fallen over New York, wrapping the turmoil of the day into a dark murmur of rest. She looked down blankly, observing the patterns of the expensive carpet. Could the moonlight steal everything or at lease ease the pain, her worries? Their problems… A violent fit of rage ran through her veins and she clenched her jaw, breathing loudly under the bitterness of her past emotions unless it was pure shame; the sentiment she had been betrayed.

She sighed before leaving the room without even turning the lights on; her high heels sounding wrong all of a sudden in the weight of her life. She turned on her left, frowning under her thoughts. Her features had changed, deepened. She dropped out her purse on some table and came in the library, plunged in the dark; the shapes of the books illuminated by the lights of another building opposite the avenue. The brown liquid danced in the glass as the subtle sound of the drink filled the room under the strength of whisky. She took off her shoes and sat down carefully on an armchair, her feet brushing the fabric of the seat before vanishing under the rest of her legs as she huddled up and began to sip her beverage.

She felt weak and lifeless; halfway between reality and an odd nightmare, unsure she would get out of it one day, alive. But experience kept on telling her that it was still her life; no matter she liked it or not. She had married Stan and was supposed to assume their acts; to face them with courage and most of all never show an ounce of sadness. She lit on a cig and leaned her head backwards, closing her eyes as the bewitching nicotine reached her system in a quiet and meaningful motion.

_You had plenty of money 1922_

_You let other women make a fool of you_

_Why don't you do it right?_

_Like some other men do_

Irony seemed to be the least appropriated choice and that's why she settled down on it; delighted by the pain she was bringing sharply to her own heart, as if she deserved it and perhaps she actually did. She raised her eyebrows and smirked in the darkness of the room, making fun of her own situation. How pitiful she had turned.

_You're sitting down and wondering what it's all about_

_If you ain't got no money, they will put you out_

_Why don't you do it right?_

_Like some other men do_

She kept on singing alone through the night thinking about the years and the lies; the agents at the office and the federal jail vanishing in her back after interminable hours of wait and incomprehension. What had they lost exactly apart from their decency and respect? The honesty of some business trips, legal transactions hidden behind a dangerous game for a couple of bills. She began to shiver uncontrollably, suddenly frightened by the immensity of the mansion; the loneliness of her soul and the uncertainty of her days. The evident failure of her marriage… The first tears welled up in her eyes but she shook her head, trying to push them away as her voice resounded loud under the pain and the strength of alcohol. A glass after another one.

_If you had prepared twenty years ago_

_You wouldn't be a wander now from door to door_

_Why don't you do it right?_

_Like some other men do_

_Get out of here _

_Get me some money too_

Feeling the urge to get some fresh air she stood up and went to the window, opening it quietly; a cigarette between her lips. It was raining, a fine veil of water making the asphalt glimmer. She tended her hand outside and let the drops fall on her skin, sending millions of invisible shivers to her spine as the coldness of the night embraced her neck in a singular motion. Nobody knew about it, about them; except Will of course. She looked down at the desert street, vaguely panicking under the realization that she would have to say it to Grace and Jack. A lot of people would learn the news and pretend to be sad while they absolutely didn't care or even could smile, delighted, once she turned her back and left.

_Welcome to The Upper East Side._

_Thank you._

She jumped and turned around, surprised by the unexpected visit. He was standing there in the darkness of the library; a shy smile lighting up his features. She frowned and took another sip of whisky.

_What are you doing here?_

He shrugged, his hands lost in the pockets of his suit.

_I'm not sure…_

_I'm fine, Will._

She abandoned the fresh air of the street and sat down on the sofa, waiting for him to do the same; dreading it. He did and she looked away, avoiding his gaze; his sparkling eyes.

_I don't want your pity; you know how I hate it. _

_In this case just accept my friendship._

_I want to divorce. He lied to me. I feel humiliated. I want a divorce; I need it._

The tone of her voice carried on the weight of her determination; the exact same one as the strength that had made her success in the past. She didn't lack ambition and couldn't bear Stanley's lies. The idea hadn't had time to grow in her mind but it sounded logical and sure in the darkness of the room; the sharp confession of an awkward night.

He grabbed her hand and pressed it tightly. She smiled and leaned over to plant a light kiss on his lips.

_Thank you, Will._

But she didn't break apart; nor him. Perhaps her despair was such that she tried to get lost in the warmness of his arms.

_Why don't you do it right?_

The last sentence of the song plunged and got drowned in her heart as they laid down on the sofa and let the night guide their acts.

_Why don't you do it right?_

Though this time she wasn't sure she was thinking about Stan while singing that.


End file.
